Today I have been sitting around wondering, when did I get so wimpy?

Specifically, when did I get too wimpy to run outside in the cold?

As Schock would tell you, I am not tough. I literally scream when I see a spider. The slightest bit of pain, be it a paper cut, a scratch, a pinch or whatever, makes me wince. The orthodontist? Forget it. I was always out of commission for days when my braces got re-adjusted. Some of it may be exaggeration, after all I am a bit dramatic, but I’m mostly just a wimp.

However, I used to be a beast when it came to running. I’ve run in snow, ice, zero degree temps, during rain, and even around Columbus at night. Bundling up and going for a run used to be an amazing feeling for me. You’re likely one of the only people out there, so clearly you’re the toughest and most awesome. Once, after my last final of Fall quarter my senior year it was sleeting/snowing and frigid. Everyone was going to the bar but I went for a run. It was such a high.

Where did that feeling go? Where is that desire to layer up and go out for a run? When did I get so wimpy?

I have no idea but I don’t like it.

I had a small turkey sandwich and a salad for lunch

In hopes of making up for this delicious breakfast my Dad prepared. Yes, the eggs are glistening. Yes, it’s because they were cooked in bacon grease. Don’t ask. When someone makes you breakfast, you eat it. And, say thank you.

I think this is probably adequate enough fuel. It’s right around 30 degrees and dropping. Perfect weather for a run?

We’ll see. Maybe this wimp has some fight left in her, after all.


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